


Lucky Charm

by Taybay14



Series: Saving people, writing prompts [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cheerleader Castiel (Supernatural), Flirty Dean Winchester, Football, Jock Dean Winchester, Jock!Dean, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, cheerleader!castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 01:36:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18305519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taybay14/pseuds/Taybay14
Summary: Another prompt from my tumblr: https://destiel-love-forever.tumblr.com/"Hello! I saw your post about wanting prompts.... As a cheerleader in the midst of my competition season, I've recently been itching for some kind of cheerleading au, but it's kind of hard to find. I love your work and if you find time to write something like this, I'd def give it a read! <3" - AnonDean Winchester is the Angel's star quarterback. It's his senior year and he should be focused on one thing: getting a college scholarship. That's what his dad - and coach - has been telling him. Then a distraction in the form of a new cheerleader with bright blue eyes and a gorgeous body comes along and things change. Will Castiel ruin Dean's chances at a future, or will he turn out to be his lucky charm?





	Lucky Charm

The warm sun falls on Dean’s exposed back as he leans over his extended legs in the grass, stretching them out. He holds the position longer than necessary because of how good the lingering summer heat feels on his skin. Any day now, autumn will sweep its way into the small town and even though it’s his favorite time of year because of football, he’ll still miss the hot days out on the lake and the warm nights around bonfires with friends. 

 

Nothing compares to football season, though. The freedom he feels out on that field. How everything melts away. And the cheerleaders.  _ Oh boy, does he love the cheerleaders.  _

 

“Winchester,” his best friend Benny grunts, flopping down onto the field with him and beginning his stretches. 

 

“Lafitte,” Dean says back in acknowledgment, looking over at him and grinning when he sees his best friend’s bare chest and neck is covered in scratches and hickies. “Better put a shirt on or coach will be pissed.”

 

Benny rolls his eyes. Dean’s dad is the coach and he’s a total hardass, but he has a soft spot for Benny. John Winchester gets a kick out of Benny, the young boy from wealthy parents, destined for greatness, no cares in the world. Sure, he gets pissed when the boy drops passes or shows up to practice hungover or late, but it’s always a few extra sprints and he’s letting it go. 

 

Unfortunately, Dean doesn’t have the same privilege. John Winchester puts the weight of the world on Dean’s shoulders, the young boy with a widowed father, no money to send him to college, not intelligent enough for good grades, so many cares in the world he could suffocate on them. Dean’s father planned his future before the boy could even throw a football. The rage that comes out when Dean fucks with the plans is violent and terrifying. 

 

“Where the fuck is Ash?” Benny asks, referring to their other best friend. The three of them are captains this year and John wanted them to come do drills and review plays before the first practice of the night tonight, when the entire town is welcome to come watch the season officially begin at midnight. 

 

Dean pulls himself out of his anxious thought tornado and shrugs. “Probably getting laid. Or napping.”

 

“Fuck both of ya. I’m right here.” Ash throws his bag down and sits beside it, not bothering to stretch yet. Instead, he lays on his back with his four limbs spread out, soaking up the sun. “Can you guys believe school starts in a week? Senior year. I can’t wait.”

 

“We’re going to be kings of the school,” Benny adds. 

 

Dean just looks over at the two of them, snorting. “We already were. But, yeah, it’ll be fun.” 

 

Benny rolls his eyes and looks at Ash. “Someone’s being grumpy today.”

 

“This should cheer ya up,” Ash says with a smile in his voice. Dean looks in the direction he’s pointing and straightens his back, puffing out his chest without meaning to. It’s only a group of five cheerleaders but all five are scantily dressed and gorgeous. Especially the one with black hair and bright blue eyes, his strong legs sticking out from short-shorts in the blue color of their school. His belly button shows beneath his t-shirt he’s made into a cut off, the hem stopping where he cut through the team’s logo. 

 

_ Fucking gorgeous.  _

 

“Who is  _ that _ ?” Dean half asks, half demands. Both of his friends just shrug, neither having any information on the new guy. 

 

The group comes closer, since they’re sitting right next to the table set up with the water jug and the stereo. Jo, the squad’s captain, goes to the stereo and plugs her phone in like she’s going to play music. Benny, her nearly permanent on again/off again boyfriend, hops up and waves his hand in the air. “Woah, woah. No. We’re using that today during warmups.”

 

“Well, you can have it then, Benjamin,” she spits over her shoulder. Dean wasn’t aware they were off again, but it’s looking like that’s the case. “We have the field for the next forty minutes. We’re practicing our routine for Midnight Madness.”

 

“Right. Midnight Madness.” Benny walks toward her with a goofy smile as he talks about the kick off practice they have tonight. “I could drive you to that. Pick you up. Drop you off after.”

 

“Oh, you think so?” 

 

They continue going back and forth, Benny’s flirting softening her up. Dean stops listening though. He can’t concentrate when blue eyes starts stretching. The boy brings an arm behind his head, grabbing his elbow and pulling, his gaze falling somewhere off in the distance. His shirt rides up and with Dean sitting on the ground he can see his rosy nipples. He licks his lips. 

 

Something hard hits him in the side and he jumps, grunting before yelling, “What the fuck?”

 

Ash has a knowing smile as he wiggles his eyebrows at him. “Careful there. You’re popping a hard on.”

 

Blushing, Dean grumbles something generic about Ash’s mom giving him a hard on as he hurries to adjust himself. His friend laughs at him and he’s seriously considering punching him until he glances up to see blue eyes looking straight at him. 

 

_ Act cool, Dean. Act cool. You’re the star quarterback of a team who won the State Championship last year. You can handle a cute boy. Act. Fucking. Cool.  _

 

“Hey,” he says with a - if he does say so himself - very casual head nod. 

 

The boy’s cheeks turn pink and he looks at the ground. “Hey.” 

 

High on the fact that he made him blush, Dean pushes further. “What’s your name?”

 

“Oh. Um.” The boy fidgets, looking at him with wide eyes. “Castiel. Cas. Castiel.” He laughs nervously. “Either works.”

 

“Alright, Cas. I’m Dean.”

 

“Hi, Dean.”

 

Dean gives Castiel the smile everyone tells him is charming. “You must be new? I’d remember a face like yours.”

 

He hears Ash whistle and say under his breath, “Smoothe.”

 

Ignoring his idiot friend, he waits for Castiel to respond. It takes the boy a minute. He rocks on his heels and looks at the grass instead of Dean before nodding and saying, “Yeah. New.”

 

“Where ya from?”

 

“New York.”

 

“Cool.”

 

“Yeah. Cool.”

 

Dean tilts his head, having decided this is definitely his conquest for the school year. There’s an irresistible pull to the boy and they’ve known each other for five minutes. Hell, he’s not even thinking about just hooking up with him. He’d bring this boy out on a date. Dean Winchester’s first ever date. 

 

“So, you’re a senior?” The boy nods. Dean smiles. “Nice. Me too. And you’re a cheerleader. That’s exciting.”

 

Castiel blushes. “Yeah. Uh, are you a football player?”

 

Dean laughs softly.  _ Understatement of the year. _ “Yeah. Quarterback.”

 

“Cool.”

 

“Yeah. So, I guess we’ll be seein’ each other often.”

 

The boy bites his lip and looks over at his new friends. They’re all staring at him in wonder, probably because they’ve gone to this school long enough to know Dean’s reputation. Castiel looks back at Dean with a nervous smile. “Great.”

 

“Great.”

 

“Yes. Great,” Ash says with a dramatic eye roll. “How about we put an end to the most boring conversation I’ve ever had to endure?”

 

“How about the football idiots stop talking to the cheerleaders?” Jo snaps, grabbing Castiel’s hand and tugging him. She tells a girl sitting in jean shorts and a shirt, presumably a friend not on the team, to start the music when she gives the signal. Then the group all heads out onto the field. 

 

Free to look without any risk of getting caught, Dean tilts his head to the side and appreciates the view of Castiel’s ass bouncing slightly as he hurries with the others. “Fucking hell,” he whispers in amazement. 

 

“Oh, boy,” Ash laughs. “You’re fucked.” 

  
  
  


\---------

  
  
  


Castiel’s thankful that the only obligation he has for Midnight Madness is the team’s dance routine. The rest of the time he can sit with his new friends and zone out on the hot as fuck quarterback that’s prancing around in a shirt with the sleeves cut off, the slits going to the bottom of his ribcage to reveal the tanned skin beneath the fabric. His black shorts hang loose on his hips and skim the tops of his knees. He’s the opposite of Castiel. Huge muscles, flirty smile, high confidence, extremely attractive, and popular. At his old school, Castiel wouldn’t have even been on the cheer squad. He was far too shy and geeky. But he promised himself at this new school he’d reinvent himself. So here he is. And now the quarterback was flirting with him. Surely only for fun, not because he’s actually interested, but it still has Castiel flustered. 

 

“Popcorn?” his new friend Chuck offers, pointing the bucket in his direction. 

 

With a thankful smile, Castiel takes a few kernels and pops them in his mouth. He’s not sure how he got so lucky. Chuck’s his neighbor so when he moved in earlier this month he had an almost instant friend. It was him who convinced Castiel to go out for the cheer squad. He had great logic. It was something Castiel actually thought he’d enjoy, and their school was the perfect place for a guy to be on a cheer team, because the popular kids at the school didn’t put up with any jokes about being a fag or whatever. At the time, Chuck had said it was because the most popular guy at the school is openly gay. Now he’s burning to ask if Chuck meant Dean. 

 

The coach blows the whistle and all the boys hurry over to the sidelines for water. Castiel watches as Dean takes off his helmet and squirts his water bottle over his head before tilting his chin back to squirt some in his mouth. Once he swallows, he shakes his head, wet hair going wild. One of his friends - the one Jo claims she hates but Castiel thinks she loves - says something, and Dean laughs. Hard. It carries through the air and Castiel shivers at the sound. 

 

“Damn, that boy is hot,” Chuck mutters, looking in the exact same spot as Castiel. 

 

Castiel’s stomach drops. The way Chuck said that was wistful, a tone Castiel’s used himself multiple times. The sound of a gay man appreciating a straight one. Since there’s no harm in agreeing with Chuck, though, Castiel sighs wistfully himself. “Yeah. He is.”

 

“Great kisser too. God, his mouth, man. I’m tellin’ ya - you haven’t been kissed until you’ve been kissed by Dean Winchester.”

 

Nearly choking on his second bite of popcorn, Castiel coughs and asks in a squeaky voice, “You’ve kissed him?”

 

“Well, jeez. Don’t act so shocked. I’m an attractive guy.”

 

“No. I mean, yes. You are.” Castiel doesn’t bother being embarrassed by admitting that. Within days of knowing each other, Castiel knew nothing was going to happen between them. Ever. They’re just great friends. “Dean’s gay?”

 

“Yeah. Well, he’s bi, actually. But yeah.”

 

Castiel turns his gaze to the field, stunned by the revelation. The swirl of possibility makes him ten times more nervous about Dean Winchester. It was one thing getting flustered by a straight boy being flirty but an entirely different thing if Dean is someone he could realistically be with. That makes the fear of rejection so much worse. 

 

“Did you guys date?” he asks quietly, eyes tracking Dean as he backs up with the ball in his hand, then throws it across the field in a high arc. The ball goes toward some other boy but Castiel keeps his eyes on Dean. 

 

“No. We were just fuck buddies for a while.”

 

“Why did you stop?”

 

“I wanted to be exclusive, to maybe try and date. Dean Winchester doesn’t do that.”

 

“Why?”

 

Chuck shrugs. “He claims he doesn’t believe in love but he’s a great guy and I don’t believe that for a second. Once you know him, you’ll see what I mean. He loves everything. One of those people that’s just completely full of life, you know? Always smiling.”

 

Castiel nods, still watching Dean. He can definitely see that, yes, but he has a feeling there’s much more to the story. Dean stands in front of his coach now. His helmet is on so Castiel can’t see his face, but his hands are in a constant state of clenching and unclenching by his sides. He notices that when the coach begins to yell, Dean takes the slightest step back, a shiver running through him. 

 

“Why do you think he doesn’t date, then?” Castiel asks, wondering out loud. 

 

“Everyone thinks it’s because of his dad. Relationships are a distraction.”

 

“Distraction from what?”

 

Chuck gestures to Dean and the coach. “Football.”

 

“God forbid,” Castiel mutters, rolling his eyes. 

 

“Really god forbid, though. Dean’s getting scouted by Division 1 schools. People think he could one day make it to the NFL. A long shot, but a possibility. He’s good. Wait until you see him play.” 

 

The coach advances on Dean and grabs the front of his jersey, yanking him forward and screaming into his face. Castiel leans forward, alarmed. “Oh my god. He can’t do that, can he?”

 

“Who? What?” Chuck looks in the same direction as Castiel and cringes, his frown deep. “Oh. Actually, he can.”

 

“Dean’s parents don’t get upset?”

 

The look Chuck gives him is incredibly sad. “Cas, that is his parents. His mom’s dead and his dad is right there.”

 

“His dad is the coach?”

 

“Yup. Real loving guy, hey?” Chuck shakes his head. “Wait until you see him during a real game.” 

 

Castiel looks at the field. Dean’s getting a drink again, along with the others, but this time he doesn’t laugh afterward. He just ducks his head and places his hands on his hips, glaring at the grass in silence. Everyone gives him a wide berth. They must know better than to bother him.

 

Castiel knows for sure now. There’s something else lingering beneath the surface of Dean Winchester. A version of himself that’s not happy all the time. That doesn’t smile. That believes in love. That desperately  _ wants _ love. 

 

In seconds, Castiel has fallen for the boy. The boy beneath the surface. 

  
  


\-------

  
  


A hand hits the back of Dean’s head and he snaps his head in the direction of the person hitting him, cheeks turning red as he worries he got caught. His dad looks at him with a scowl and his eyebrows pulled in. Dean prays he didn’t notice Dean watching a certain cheerleader on the sidelines. When his dad’s eyes look over his shoulder at Castiel, he deflates. 

 

“Somethin’ more important than the game, boy?” 

 

“No, sir. Of course not.”

 

“You sure?” His dad turns to gesture at the field, where the other team is only ten yards from scoring a touchdown and tying the game. There’s only three minutes left and the Angel’s defense is exhausted. It’s not looking good. “Because the game is this way. Not that way.”

 

Dean bites the inside of his cheek and tries to remain calm so he can play this off. “Someone was shouting. I looked over there quick. Sorry.”

 

His dad just stares at him, unimpressed and probably not believing him either. The ball is snapped and a play begins. His dad leaves Dean alone to start coaching. It takes everything inside the young boy not to look at Castiel again. He gets closer to the white chalk of the field’s official edge and tightens his fists at his sides. His dad is right. He has to focus. 

 

The opposing team scores on the next play and Dean’s gut sinks. He glances at the clock. Now there’s only two minutes and ten seconds left. It’s not impossible but it’ll be hard. As the players start to switch, Dean’s dad grabs him and yanks him close before he can run off. “This is your fault. That interception in the first could cost us this game. Go out there and fucking fix it.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

His dad shoves him toward the field and Dean stumbles for a second before jogging to his position. The other players start to line up. He feels sick as he waits for the ball. His dad is right, this is his problem to fix now. They can’t start the season off with a loss. Especially when the loss would be his fault. 

 

His throat clenches and makes it hard for him to breathe. He hears the crowd shouting and the cheerleaders cheering and his dad screaming at them.  _ The cheerleaders. _ Dean sucks in a breath and takes a chance, glancing over at the sidelines. The cheerleaders are facing the team right now instead of the crowd. Castiel’s in the front, right next to Jo in the center. He’s shaking his pom poms but his mouth is closed as his eyes bore into Dean. When he realizes the quarterback is looking at him, he gives a wave of a pom and a nervous smile. 

 

The anxiety in Dean’s chest unfurls and he’s left with a floaty feeling. When he turns back to the game, he feels invincible. 

  
  


\-----

  
  


Castiel stands on the sidelines, anxiously waving his pom poms. His knees are wobbling in anticipation as he keeps his eyes glued to Dean’s every move. The clock is winding down and Dean’s managed to push the team down the field a good amount. They’re only thirty yards from the end zone now. The problem? There’s also only twenty-four seconds left on the clock. 

 

The coach calls a time out and Jo orders them to spin around and do a certain cheer. He goes through the motions, forcing his eyes to stay on the audience, forcing his mouth to stay in a perky smile. The second they’re turned back around to watch the game, his face is serious again, his heart racing. 

 

“Come on, Dean,” he whispers below his breath. “You can do it. Come on.”

 

The ball is snapped and Dean takes his steps backward, arm cocking in the air. His head swivels and Castiel scans the players, trying to find an open spot, praying there is one. Praying wherever it is, Dean sees it. 

 

Castiel holds his breath when the ball is launched through the air. He watches it’s slow descent, realizing it’s heading for Benny Lafitte. The entire stadium turns quiet. It’s as if the air is charged with electricity. 

 

When the ball lands on the ground, two or three yards further left than Benny, the opposing team cheers and the whistle blows as Dean’s dad calls another timeout. From his left, Castiel hears Chuck suck in a breath and whisper, “Shit.”

 

He doesn’t have to ask what’s wrong. The second Dean’s within reach, the coach is grabbing his face mask and yanking him to the sideline. The boy’s neck twists in a way that must have been painful - and quite honestly dangerous - and then the coach’s bright red face is pressing right up against the face mask as he screams. They’re close enough to hear parts and bits but too far to make sense of much of it. Castiel hears something about a ‘goddamn failure’ and ‘home.’ Something else about ‘embarrassment’ and ‘benched.’ 

 

Castiel’s eyes burn as he watches the scene. He glances around, astonished that no one cares that this coach - this  _ father _ \- is manhandling his son and screaming at him. When he looks at Chuck, his friend gives him a sad smile. Castiel just shakes his head, still shocked, and looks back at Dean and his dad. The whistle blows to signal the timeout is over and Castiel wonders if the man even had time to tell Dean a play or what to do. It seems he spent the entire time berating him. He says something else, something not yelled, then slams the palm of his hand twice against the side of Dean’s helmet and sends him off. 

 

Six seconds. Final play. Too far away still to kick a field goal. “Come on, Dean,” Castiel shouts without meaning too. His cheeks burn with embarrassment but the other cheerleaders join him with words of their own. Then the Angel’s side of the bleachers start shouting encouragement at the young quarterback. Dean glances at the crowd, scanning it, then his helmet drops lower and he looks at Castiel like he did earlier. Instead of getting flustered this time, Castiel nods once, reassuring, and yells, “You can do it!” 

 

The boy’s shoulders straighten and he turns to the team. The ball is snapped. Dean falls back. His arm is cocked. The crowd goes silent. The air becomes electric. 

 

The ball flies through the air. Toward Benny again. 

 

This time, it lands right in the boy’s arms. Three steps and he’s in the endzone. The crowd freaks out, jumping up and screaming. The boys on the sidelines storm the field to celebrate. The other cheerleaders are yelling and kicking their legs up in excitement. Castiel sees Jo fly away from the squad, heading straight for Benny, and something idiotic takes over his own body. One second he’s wishing he could hug Dean and the next second, he’s sprinting toward the boy with the number one on his blue jersey. 

 

He launches himself at the boy, taking him by surprise. Dean releases a soft grunt before chuckling and returning his hug. His large arms wrap around Castiel’s bare waist, huge hands spreading across the small of his back, and he shivers at the calloused touch. One of the hands leaves so Dean can pull his helmet off. His hair is all over the place as sweat clumps it together, and sweat is rolling down the side of his face from his temple. Castiel’s mouth goes dry watching it travel down to his strong jaw. He wonders what it would taste like it. 

 

Staring up at him in awe, Castiel accidentally whispers, “You’re amazing.”

 

Instead of the cocky or flirty response he expects, Dean smiles softly and holds him tighter. “I’m pretty fond of you, too, Cas.”

 

“Really?” 

 

“Really.” Dean leans down, slowly, making sure Castiel understands his intentions. When the cheerleader does nothing but lift up on his toes to make the journey shorter for him, he smiles and closes the distance, molding his lips over Castiel’s. Dean drops his helmet to the field so he can use the hand to cup the back of Castiel’s neck and hold him steady, his other hand increasing pressure on his back to pull him in closer. When he breaks the kiss off, he stays with their lips almost touching, so he can breathe him in. He whispers against Castiel’s mouth, “I think you’re my lucky charm.”

 

Castiel leans back to look him in the eyes, grinning like a total idiot. “Then I guess you’ll just have to keep me around.”

 

“Yeah.” Dean nods, feeling dizzy with happiness. “I guess so.” 


End file.
